


Our Hearts' Desires

by acme146



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aromantic Dean Winchester, Asexual Castiel, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Profound Bond, Queerplatonic Relationships, Sam is a Good Brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 14:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10946733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acme146/pseuds/acme146
Summary: Dean Winchester will never fall in love. Castiel will never feel desire. Profound bonds, after all, tie people together in many different ways, and no one needs to be lonely.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my submission for the Asexual SPN mini bang. This story was a lot of fun to write. Thanks of course to cenedrariva for being my beta and making the gorgeous art (which will be linked on my tumblr).   
> Cheers,   
> Acme

            Dean was seventeen the first time he realized he didn't want to be in love.

            They were hanging out at Bobby's for a few weeks that summer. Dean had broken his leg on a hunt and their dad had left them with the old hunter, muttering to himself about demons. Sammy was finally hitting a growth spurt and his legs and arms were almost as sore as Dean's. Bobby was endlessly patient with the two of them, finding old books for Sam to translate that had nothing to do with monsters, and he taught Dean how to win in poker.

            One day, however, Bobby lost patience with them both after they wouldn't quit bickering. After giving them thirty bucks, he told them to get out and give him an hour's peace. Dean's leg still wasn't ready for driving or biking, but the nearest diner wasn't far, and he'd walked further before with worse injuries.

            They were halfway down the driveway when Sam realized he'd forgotten his book. Seeing the nervousness in his little brother's eyes—Sam didn't like it when adults yelled—Dean turned around and went back for it. When he got in the house, though, he heard sobbing.

            Carefully, Dean crept closer to the kitchen. Bobby was sitting at the table, tears dripping down his face, a woman's picture in his hand.

            Dean meant to back out, grab Sam's coat, and give Bobby two hours, three hours—hell, whatever he needed, but he tripped trying to turn around. Bobby heard him. Dean flinched, expecting anger, but instead Bobby just looked guilty.

            "Sorry Dean," he said. "I didn't even think—you can't walk all that way on your leg."

_I can_ , Dean wanted to say. _I'll leave you alone._

            What came out instead was, "Do you want us to stay?"

            They called Sam back in and Bobby took out the supplies for making peach cobbler, and as they made it together, he told them about Karen. Sam was teary-eyed from the story, and Dean might have squeezed out a tear or two, but really he felt more horrified than sad. Bobby was the kindest man he'd ever met, always helping anyone who needed it, whether they asked or not.

            But the memory of being in love, of losing that love, had made him forget Dean's leg.

            And Bobby knew what killed his wife; he'd killed it, too. He wasn't like Dad, still chasing a supernatural arsonist. He'd been able to make peace, but he still made peach cobbler and cried every summer.

            Dean decided right then and there that he was going to be perfectly fine without love.

            It wasn't worth it.

* * *

 

            At first he thought it was just that fear of pain.

            That was as good excuse as any. They lived dangerous lives, and hell, when Sammy left, Dean was pretty sure he didn't want to love anyone ever again, in any way. On his own for the first time, making careful, quiet checkups to Stanford campus whenever he could risk it, Dean soothed his loneliness with alcohol and one night stands.

            Then something changed.

            Sam called out of the blue, and they talked. Only for a few minutes, but Sam was bubbling over about a girl, Jess. How pretty she was, and how he loved picking out flowers for her and going on picnics. Dean said all the right things (at least, he hoped), but inside he was thinking, "glad I don't have to do that."

            What was the point of bringing flowers? Or picnics?

            Things got worse.

            Dean started realizing he wanted family, sure, but love? It wasn’t that it hurt too much. Burning Dad’s body, feeling Sammy shaking beside him, hurt. Sammy lying dead hurt like a bitch.

            Hell hurt.

            No, it wasn’t fear of pain or getting hurt that made him put love aside. There was something else. He didn’t want it at all.

            Dean struggled against that idea. He was fucking human, wasn’t he? And sex was awesome, and being close to people was great, even if so often it ended badly. But romance…

            He couldn’t do it.

            He tried with Lisa, tried to remember flowers and compliments…he even tried love notes. And he did care for her a lot, and Ben, and they were trying so hard to be a family…but he couldn’t do romance.

            He just wasn’t interested.

            Later Dean thought—well, he thought maybe it was because he was gay.

            Or bi, maybe. Whatever it was, he was definitely attracted to men.

            Especially Cas. But the angel was…well, an angel. He was special, and he definitely couldn’t be Dean’s first try. If he was wrong, if he fucked up the first time, it wasn’t going to be with Cas.

            Not like Cas would want him anyways.

            So Dean bought lube for the first time and headed off to a gay bar without telling Sam or Cas. Lisa was long gone, and he pretended not to notice the other guy’s wedding ring.

            And the sex was incredible—scarier than usual, a heart stopping moment when Dean asked if he could top and the other guy hesitated, panicking when the guy held onto him more strongly than any woman—powerful, and Dean knew for sure this was what he wanted. But there was still no urge to stay, to hold on, to say poetry.

            Well, it was just a one night stand.

            Dean couldn’t bear to tell Cas, and then Cas was gone, disappeared into the lake. He kept his trench coat, because Cas would want it back someday, when the Leviathans were gone—because things would be back to normal. Cas couldn’t _stay_ gone.

            And he did come back, just as Dean was losing Sam. And Cas gave him back his brother, but the price of saving Sam meant Cas was gone again.

            Purgatory came next, a crystal-sharp place of fear and fighting. But there were quiet nights too, nights when either Benny or Cas kept watch while the other curled up against Dean. Dean would have objected, but he was too cold and they had no blankets. And Benny’s arms were strong and sure, and Cas’ hold was so familiar, and he was able to sleep.

            One night Cas walked further away, and Benny asked him a question.

            “Dean, you ever been in Love?”

            Dean could hear the capital L, could tell that Benny meant something special. He was too tired to lie.

            “No,” he said honestly. “I never have.”

            To his surprise, the vampire nodded. “Thought not.”

            “Why?”

            “Because you love that angel.”

            Dean looked up at him, utterly betrayed, but Benny tilted his head. Cas was standing far away, and Benny was talking right in Dean’s ear as he held him.

            “I’ve seen people like you before. My mother was like that—she loved my daddy, but she wasn’t in Love. He didn’t really mind.”

            “What’s wrong with me?”

            If anyone had told Dean’s past-self that he would ask that question, _ever,_ he would have socked them.

            “There ain’t anything wrong with you, brother,” Benny said firmly. “You just don’t Love.”

            “People are supposed to do that.”

            “Maybe not everybody.”

            And for one short, breathless, painless moment, Dean let himself imagine that.

            Then Benny was gone. Dean had no one to convince him he was wrong.

            Cas deserved Love. He couldn’t give it.

            So he could never tell Cas that he loved him with everything he had.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Cas' turn for a little self-reflection, and some discoveries are made.

            Cas had always believed that Dean was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

            The first time he saw him wasn’t in Hell, the way most people assumed. Dean certainly assumed that. No, it was the week before he’d died, when Sam lay in an exhausted sleep and Dean prayed for the first time.

            “If anyone’s listening…I know I don’t deserve it. But I…I’m scared. I don’t want to go to Hell. And most of all I don’t want Sammy to break like I did. Can you save him, at least?”

            There were angels who laughed at that prayer. Michael was one of them; the Sword had no idea that he would one day kill the brother he prayed for now. But Castiel (for he was only Castiel then) hadn’t laughed. Instead, he pitied the man, whose fear came from love. All his actions came from love, when you looked closely. And late that night, when no one in his garrison was watching, Castiel studied the soul of the Righteous Man as he lay dreaming. He had told himself it was so he would recognize him perfectly in Hell, so that not a moment would be lost.

            And four months later, wings singed and ears ringing with the cries of the damned, he had known Dean right away. Dean’s soul had been flayed, and hellfire curled deep within, but still it shined, fierce and bright.

            Castiel had picked him up, marvelling at his radiance, and flew back to Earth, shielding the bright soul from Hell, from the eyes of the other angels…even from himself.

            Years later, he wondered if he’d known, even back then. Known that he would lose everything for this man, and do it gladly.

            Whenever Dean stood before him, Cas felt awe, admiration, and respect—just as he felt for Anna, for Balthazar (and the same piercing regret). He felt a deep sense of belonging, too—just as he did with Sam and Claire, Jody and Alex (the same wistful feeling for a home he’d never really had).

            And then there was something else.

            He hadn’t been lying when he said he and Dean shared a more profound bond. He knew Sam and the rest of their little band spoke about it behind their backs, and he knew part of it was true. The love he felt for Dean was different; living without him wasn’t an option. He wanted to see the hunter smiling, see his insecurities fall away, see him understand once and for all how bright— how beautiful he was.

            Humans called that being in love. And maybe it was.

            So when Cas became human, he expected the way he looked at Dean to change.

            When he woke from the death dealt by the reaper and stared at Dean’s face, saw his body without the light of his soul, Cas’ feelings certainly had changed. The intensity of it took his breath away, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure Dean would hear. Dean was _beautiful._

And Cas waited for desire to hit.

            Balthazar had tried to explain, once, what desire felt like (his brother had always been close to humanity). If he’d ever thought about it (lies: he’d thought about it from the moment he’d started to fall the first time), Cas would have assumed that desire for Dean would come with humanity.

            But it never did.

            Oh, Dean was still beautiful, even when he became demonic; beautiful and terrifying. But Cas still felt no urge to tear his clothes off, to touch him wherever he wanted…although it wasn’t an unpleasant idea, that kind of intimacy. It was _Dean,_ and he loved him. He would give that if he wanted it, even though he wasn’t enthusiastic about the process. 

            But Dean didn’t seem to want it. Didn’t seem to want him at all.

             Sam, of course, was trying to help. Cas couldn’t find the heart to stop him, couldn’t find the words to explain the delicate balance he and Dean were stranded on. All Sam could see were his brother and his friend, who needed to get over their own nonsense. And Sam would fix them, because it was becoming pretty clear he couldn’t be happy, himself. The least he could do was make sure Dean and Cas were going to be.

            Cas appreciated his efforts at first, but he could see the pain Dean tried to hide as they were left alone together again and again. Cas had his Grace now, and could see Dean’s soul dim with unhappiness. He was struggling against the bond they shared, and Cas felt his misery as his own.

            So he went to talk to Sam.

            At first Sam didn’t understand. He explained that of course he didn’t care if Dean liked men, and he knew that Cas and Dean had something special, and he wanted to make absolutely clear that he approved of the relationship.

            “I don’t think you understand how I feel for your brother,” Cas replied. “I love him, of course I do, and it is different from what I feel for you.”

            “Thank goodness,” Sam joked. “No offence.”

            “None taken,” Cas replied with a hesitant smile. Because Sam was important too, and he had to understand that. The man had suffered so deeply and Cas ached to soothe that pain properly, but it wasn’t his wound to heal. Someone else would help Sam, someday, and Cas had a suspicion it was a woman who listened better than most who could hear.

            But right now it was time to help Dean.

            “I love your brother, but I do not desire him.”

            Sam raised his eyebrows. “Is it because you’re an angel?”

            “I thought so at first,” Cas answered. “But then…I was human, and though my feelings became more intense, there was still no desire. I felt none for the reaper woman either; I did that because she wanted it, and I craved some kind of intimacy. But not…not that kind.”

            Sam’s brow furrowed. “Are you asexual?”

            “I am not a worm, Sam.”

            Sam didn’t smile. He pulled his laptop towards him and typed in the word, one Cas had never heard applied to human beings.

            He read over Sam’s shoulder as he scrolled through the website, and a deep sense of relief came over him. He could explain himself now. It wasn’t because he was an angel. This was something Dean could understand.

            There was nothing broken about his love.

            “A buddy of mine was ace in college,” Sam said quietly. “I’m sorry, I never thought…he never looked at anyone, boy or girl. I thought that’s what it meant.”

            Cas was about to reply, but he saw a word. Reaching over Sam, he clicked on another link. And drew in an unnecessary breath.

            “Sam…”

            Sam looked and his face went gray. “Oh God…Dean.”

            It was a story about a girl who felt desire, but felt no love. She was sharing her story here to let people know that it wasn’t just desire that people didn’t experience sometimes. “I want to have sex, but I’d rather chew tinfoil than go on a date. Am I going to be alone forever?”

            Cas closed his eyes, a thousand things making sense for the first time.

            “What have I done?” Sam whispered. “I must have made him feel…”

            “You didn’t know, Sam,” Cas explained gently. He put a hand on the hunter’s right shoulder. “Brother, you didn’t know.”

            “How could he forgive me?”

            “Tell him you love him anyways. You do, don’t you?”

            “Of course!”

            “Then just be his brother, and let him have some time to adjust.” Cas stepped away.

            “Where are you going?”

            “To speak to Dean. I would appreciate it if you gave us some time, Sam. Perhaps you could go for a drive?”

            “I’ll get groceries,” Sam agreed, standing up. “And Cas…I love you too, no matter what.”

            Cas swallowed, shocked by the depth of his relief. “Thank you, Sam.” He stayed still as Sam put an arm briefly around his shoulders, then walked hurriedly towards the garage. Once he heard the Impala leave the Bunker, he set off in search of Dean.

            Dean, it turned out, was in the kitchen, cleaning up. Cas smiled; Dean had made burgers. They were still his favourite molecules.

            “Hey, Cas.” Dean looked up from the counter. “You need something?”

            Cas wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. It wasn’t really how he wanted to begin. As he hesitated, Dean’s face fell.

            “What’s wrong,?” he asked urgently. “Did you have a fight with Sam?”

            “No,” Cas said quickly. “Sam and I had a discussion, and I asked him to go get groceries.”

            Dean dropped the cloth he was holding. “And…uh…what were you talking about?” The stricken— terrified look in his eyes broke Cas’ heart.

            “Dean,” he said as gently as he could, “it’s nothing bad.”

            Dean swallowed hard, picked up the cloth again. “Just get it over with, Cas.”

            Cas considered starting small, explaining the concepts he and Sam had researched, reassuring Dean at every step that of course, words were just words and they didn’t always convey feeling very well—he hadn’t found a language that did his feelings justice—and he could leave it there, leave the words for Dean to think about and decide what to do.

            But Dean was trembling, and Cas wasn’t sure if it was because he was afraid Cas was rejecting him, or if he was afraid Cas loved him too much. Too differently.

            So he walked towards Dean instead, and before Dean could protest, placed his hand on his left shoulder. The physical handprint had faded long ago, but Cas could still feel his mark. The print was upside down, and Cas felt like he was touching his past self, who’d believed happiness came from serving the Word. _You never knew,_ Cas thought. _You never knew how miserable you were._

Shaking himself out of the past, Cas touched Dean’s face with his free hand. “I love you.”

            Dean shook his head, tried to step away, but Cas wouldn’t let him. “You don’t,” he objected. “You can’t. And if you—if you do—I don’t love you that way.”

            “But you do love me,” Cas answered.

            Dean jerked away at that, stronger than Cas could hold. “Damn it, Cas, I—” His voice broke. “I can’t—”

            “Dean, do you love me?”

            Dean bowed his head.

            “Dean?”

            “Yes!” Dean burst out. “Yes, I do, but I—I’m not in Love with you.”

            Cas heard the difference, knew what Dean meant, but .the opportunity for him to explain had passed. As much as it killed him to watch Dean struggle, he had to let him get it out.

            “I—I don’t mean that you’re my friend, or that you’re my brother.” Dean’s head was still bowed. “It’s different than that. But I don’t know how to be in Love. I don’t want to, either. And you deserve better than that. You deserve to have someone who can give you everything.”

            “I don’t want everything,” Cas answered, his voice as gentle as he could make it. “I want you.”

            Dean shook his head. “You don’t know that. You don’t—there’s something wrong with me—”

            “There is nothing wrong with you,” Cas said sternly. He let a bit of his True Voice leak in, saw Dean flinch in surprise. “You are Dean, my Dean, and I love you. I want to be with you.”

            Dean was shaking all over now. Cas drew him close carefully, putting his arms around him tenderly.

            “What do you want from me?” Dean rasped.

            “I told you. I want to be with you.” Cas held him closer. “I want to stay with you and love you. I want you to come to me with everything and trust me to take care of you. And if you want to be physical, I am willing to be.”

            Cautiously, Dean put his hands up on Cas’ shoulders. “But what about…all the other stuff? Dates? Flowers? Being in Love?”

            “I am perhaps in Love with you,” Cas admitted, “but as for the general trappings of romance…they are unnecessary. I just want to spend time with you. Perhaps we could go for a drive and have burgers?”

            Dean choked on a laugh that was almost a sob. “I…I can do that, angel.” He looked hesitantly into Cas’ eyes. “I…I want you. Like, in my bed. Is that okay?”

            “I find you beautiful, dearest,” Cas said. “I do not desire you the way you do me, but I am willing and able to lay with you if you wish it.”

            “I don’t—I’m not going to make you do something you don’t want to do, if you’re not making me!”

            “I am not unwilling,” Cas corrected him. “It’s just not something I _need_ to do. I don’t feel a need to have sex with you. I feel a need for you.”

            Dean swallowed hard. “I…it’d be nice to have sex with you. When you want to.”

            “We can do that,” Cas answered. He hesitated. “Dean…will you have me?”

            “You’re asking me?” Dean’s eyes were bright with tears. “Cas, I never thought I’d…I’d be enough for you.” He nodded. “Yes, yes, I’ll have you. And you can have me.”

            Cas rested his forehead against Dean’s. “I will be good to you, dearest. I promise.” He paused. “May I kiss you?”

            Dean kissed him in response, clinging to him. It was a simple, chaste kiss, and Cas deepened it carefully, gauging Dean’s reaction. Dean shuddered against him, and Cas broke the kiss, drew away long enough to let Dean breathe, gazing into green eyes.

            “I love you, Dean.”

            “I love you Cas.” Dean buried his face in Cas’ shoulder, and Cas held him close.

            “It’s alright Dean. You’re enough.”


	3. The Profound Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life with love for Dean and Cas.

           It took weeks for Dean to believe Cas wasn’t going to leave.

            But the angel was in his bed every night, stayed with them on hunts, moved into the Bunker. He helped Sam with research, made sure Dean ate, and listened patiently to Dean ramble while he cooked.

            Sam stopped making jokes. He’d cornered Dean in the hall one morning, holding him tightly, whispering “I’m so sorry” over and over again. He didn’t say what he was apologizing for; he might not have had the words. But he sent Dean a link to a site that answered a lot of questions, and he lay in the other bed when they had to share a room, talking to them normally.

            Like it was normal for two grown men to lie together in bed fully clothed, holding each other.

            Oh, they fucked once in a while, and it was the best sex Dean had ever had, mostly because it only happened when they both needed more than just cuddling, needed to touch bare skin, when he needed to feel Cas move inside him, to hold on as tight as he could and hear Cas whisper words of praise and devotion.

            But never Love. Not the Love that Bobby had with Karen, or Jody with Donna.

           Dean didn’t want that. He wanted Cas’ _love_ , his tender care, his strong arms, his promises. The wonder in his eyes when he looked at Dean, the steady grip of his hands when Dean was injured.

           And Cas gave it without condition.

            As the years went on people started to ask questions. They asked whether they were together (they went with ‘yes’ for that one), how long they’d been together (Dean said from the barn, Cas argued it was from Hell), and who topped (Sam glared away anyone who asked that question).

            Then people started asking about marriage.

            Dean actually thought about it. It was legal now, for one thing, and he was willing to tie himself to Cas that way. Having Cas as his husband…that would be nice.

            Cas was reluctant when Dean brought it up. Surprised (and a little worried), Dean asked why.

             “I was thinking of something else,” Cas clarified.

            “Like what?”

            It took five solid minutes of Dean pressing for Cas to tell him about bonding, something angels did with their mates, romantic or otherwise. It took five seconds for Dean to say yes.

            “I don’t know if it will work with you,” Cas admitted. “It’s only been done once with a human, and it nearly killed them when they…”

            “When they what?”

            “When they grew tired of the angel,” Cas said, eyes lowered.

            That infuriated Dean so much it took him a long moment to get his anger under control. To see that though Cas gave him so much care, he didn’t truly believe it was reciprocated.

            He got down on one knee (he used to hate that gesture so much) and asked Cas to bond with him.

            Cas said yes, though Dean could tell he was still worried.

            It took preparation and isolation. Sam offered to leave the Bunker, but Cas took Dean far into the woods, far away from people, just in case he got it wrong.

            He didn’t.

            Dean never found words to describe what being bound to Cas felt like. There was light, and shock and awe, glimpsing Cas’ true form and being so beyond worshipping, feeling Cas touch every last inch of him, deep into his soul, something that would have been wrong with anyone else…

            That was his best effort. In reality, it was so much more.

            They woke two days later, and when Dean looked at Cas his partner looked more at peace, more happy than Dean had ever seen him. And he knew why; he could feel Cas’ delight at Dean’s reciprocation of devotion, could sense the new-found ease.

            He also sensed Cas’ joy when they returned home to Sam eating breakfast with a beaming Eileen Leahy on his lap, wearing one of his T-shirts and signing to him. Sam was watching intently, his arm around her waist and a huge, warm smile on his face.

            Dean was positive Cas could feel his glee as he cleared his throat loudly, making his baby brother jump and nearly knock Eileen off his knee, catching her at the last second. And the warmth, a moment later, when Eileen looked at them for a second, flipped them off, and kissed Sam deeply, disregarding his blush.

            Over the next few weeks, Dean got used to feeling Cas’ emotions, to realizing it was even harder to hide his worries from his boyfriend. He also got used to Sam smiling and happy, got used to having Eileen in the Bunker, to learning sign language.

            One day he and Eileen were making dinner for their men as they went for groceries.

            _Who is Cas?_ Eileen signed. _To you?_

Dean still didn’t know much sign language, but he knew enough to form the most important words, one hand bearing a new ring (Cas had insisted).

            _He is mine. I am his._

Eileen nodded, like it explained everything, and they went back to bickering about using nutmeg or tarragon.

            Sam’s room slowly became Sam and Eileen’s room, and Dean and Cas did their best to support Sam as he tried to sort through how he felt about that. Most of his concerns—his past, their future, all the loves he’d lost, the love he longed to give—were worthy of some discussion.

            Then Sam went stupid.

            “Won’t we be bothering you two? I know you’re not really into that kind of relationship.”

            That prompted a wrestling match which ended with Cas kneeling on Sam’s arms and Dean tickling the living crap out of him until he promised to stop being an idiot.

            “The idea,” Dean sniffed. “You actually think I’d be upset about you being happy the way you want to be? You’d better make up for that, little brother.”

            And Sam did, eighteen months later, when Dean and Cas stood for him as his best men. He took his bride to the beach in the Bahamas, and Dean and Cas had the Bunker to themselves. They drank too much, watched every bad movie they could stomach on Netflix, and fell asleep in each other’s arms. They didn’t have sex anymore; the bond had taken away Dean’s need for that almost entirely (barring a few showers every now and then). All he needed was Cas.

            Luckily for him, he was all Cas needed too.


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several years later, Dean gets woken up at an unreasonable hour.

Dean blinked awake, saw how dark it was, and immediately buried his face into the pillow.

            Cas’ amusement flickered through their bond. “It’s time to get up, Dean.”

            “It’s dark. There’s no way in hell.”

            “We’ll be late.”

            “It’s a three hour drive and Maura’s graduation doesn’t start until noon. We have a present.”

            “Sam wanted us to be there earlier.”

            “Sam can—ugh. Please.”

            “Alright, Dean.” Cas drew him back under his wings, and Dean sighed with contentment. He was too old to get up before dawn anymore.

            He’d been saying that since he was fifteen, so it was a bit strange to actually realize that hey, he was pushing sixty, and his youngest niece was graduating university. He really was getting old.

            When Dean had imagined old age as a young man, it had always been something like Bobby. Drunk, running phones and hunts, barking at everyone but always having a place to crash for anyone who needed it. Being alone.

            He had parts of that. He and Cas lived in one of the safe houses in Kansas, and spent two days a week running phones and chat lines together for the re-established Men of Letters. He was probably getting grumpier now, but he had a wall of pictures of the hunters who called him and Cas Dad, sometimes as a joke, sometimes very real. There were even three kids who called them Uncle—Ellie Mary, Dean Patrick, and Maura Celeste.

            Their Aunt Charlie loved the last one.

            As for being alone…well, Dean had almost forgotten the feeling. He felt a surge of affection for Bobby, and hoped that he’d helped the old hunter at least a little on his bad days. He couldn’t imagine Cas not being there over all of those years, the battles, the heartbreaks. Even the joyful days would have been missing something if Cas hadn’t been there with his bright eyes and confused smile.

            Cas patted his shoulder. “Dean.”

            Dean groaned. “Fine.” He pushed himself up and stared at the clock. Which said 2 AM.

            “You son of a—”

            He leapt onto Cas and attempted to pound him properly, but his wings, healed from the moment they were bound together, blocked him.

            Cas laughed and grabbed Dean’s hands. “I’m sorry, Dean, but I woke up and I couldn’t resist.”

            “You’re horrible.”

            Cas dragged him into a kiss, rubbing his back as he enfolded him in his wings. “Go back to sleep, dearest,” he whispered. “I’ll fly us there later.”

            Dean grumbled, but he laid his cheek against Cas’ chest. “You better make me breakfast for that.”   

            “Of course.”

            Dean closed his eyes, sleep already dragging him down. Cas’ hold was comforting and safe, his hands high on Dean’s back. There was no awkwardness between them, no distance.

            Profound bonds were nice. Even if your bondmate liked to wake you up at 2AM for a joke.

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the story! Hope everyone enjoyed, and you should check out the other stories in the Bang, they all look awesome!   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


End file.
